Time's Up
by Mikadaphne28
Summary: (AU/Short Story) 'It just takes one call, to save lives. It would also take the same call to destroy them.' NYPD's SWAT team is suddenly pulled into a situation where the only results anyone in the team wants are positive. Can they take it to bring down these criminals and save the hostages, or will lives pay for their mistakes? *Includes OCs/Humanized
1. Chapter 1

**So, I recently watched a show...and I thought I'll bring out this one-shot...R &amp; R! :D**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Dreamworks, POM (series &amp; movie). This was merely inspired by a show belonging to the Crime &amp; Investigation channel and used for entertainment. This is in no way related to any other story I have made.**

**Events and characters are not in any way related to true to life events. Any contradictions to this claim is a mere coincidence.**

**Minor coarse language.**

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**1556 hours, New York Police Department**

Merely another ordinary day for Skipper McGrath, head of NYPD's elite tactical team, as he slowly stirred his cup of coffee. It was slowly growing cold, but he didn't want to finish what was his hundredth cup today before Barbie McHale (Rico DiMaggio's, a team member, girlfriend) brought over the team's lunch. If he took any more of the caffeine product, he was going to have a hard time sleeping later on. If that happened, he would want to go over the case files more and his youngest brother, Private, and a friend, Marlene, were going to give him a scolding for that.

There was no way one of the most feared men of the force was going to be degraded by his teenage brother and girlfriend.

"Rico." Skipper called to the male discreetly making paper planes behind a stack of papers. Said male immediately sat up straight and put on his poker face, folding the unfinished plane under his hands. "Where is Barbie right now?"

Rico, a strange man with a scar over his mouth, let out small sigh, as if glad that he wasn't being called for something else, and relaxed his stance a bit before shrugging. "On 'er hay. (On her way.)"

Skipper leaned back and placed his boots on the table, careful of the cup of warm coffee and raised a brow at the man. "You better put that back, Rico. Kowalski's going to have your head when he finds out that you're folding reports of last week's cases."

Rico chuckled nervously and unfolded the papers, smoothing out the crinkled papers and held them down with a paperweight on the table. The same table, which the man was now walking away from, had a nameplate on it that said 'Kowalski Bennett'.

"Where is the man anyway?" Another shrug from the scarred man before he plopped down on his chair and followed Skipper's comfy position.

The door opened quietly and the two turned to it as a mop of black along with a pair of baby blues peeked into the room. "Skippah?"

Skipper raised his brow at the boy and clasped his hands on the table. "Come in, Private. It's your office too, you know."

"I do. Just wanted to make sure we were eating here, and not out in the break room again." Private walked in carrying a couple of plastic bags and was followed by a blond female in casual clothes, carrying similar bags.

"About time, McHale." Skipper muttered as he walked over with his miraculously warm cup of coffee.

The blonde crossed her arms as Rico wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. "Not my fault traffic's a pain, boss. I'm also off duty at the moment, and I didn't think that feeding my team would be important enough that I can disobey traffic rules."

"Fine. Somebody call-"

Just then, the door to the office opened with Kowalski Bennett looking over them solemnly. His eyes landed on the blonde and he nodded outside.

"It's urgent."

Without another word, he marched away, leaving his teammates to stare at each other. Skipper was the first to follow the team's scientist into the dispatch office, where a nervous man was looking from the screen and speaking fervently into the mic of his headphones, obviously on the line with a caller.

Kowalski lightly tapped the man, who looked up at him, spotted Barbie coming up and got out of the chair, still speaking to the person on the other side.

"Relax, darling. She's here." He turned to Barbie and handed her the headphones. "She requested for you. Good luck, McHale." Barbie quickly put on the headphones and checked the screen for information.

_Hostage situation._

_Heist at Mack's Emporium, downtown area._

_Dispatch 4, 15, 17, 20 and 23 on the way._

_Two civilians shot; one dead, the other unknown._

"Barbie McHale at your service, ma'am. You-"

"_B-Bar-bie?_" A voice weakly called through silent sobs and heavy breathing.

Barbie's hands stilled over the keyboard as her teammates froze in shock. "KYLE?" The sobs continued and the lady grabbed the mic with one hand and pulled it closer. "Kyle, what the hell are you doing? How-"

"_Th-they shot her._" The girl whispered through the phone, sniffling quietly. "_She was trying to protect me and lead them away from the door so I can escape, but they shot her and I don't know where she is now, or if she's okay, because they dragged her away and-"_

"Who?"

"_Selena._"

"The hell is wrong with my sister?! What was she thinking," Barbie shook her head, noticing Kowalski's stiff form beside her, and gritted her teeth before she sighed and spoke in a soft yet determined voice. "Alright, Kyle. I need you to calm down and tell me exactly where you are in Mack's Emporium." There was a pause on the other end and Barbie could clearly hear her silent cries. "Kyle, please tell me where you are so I may inform the officers of your location."

"_By the_," a pause which Barbie assumed that the girl was looking around, "_lawn stuff_."

Barbie nodded and spoke to another mic situated in front of her. "Caller's by the northwest side of the store. I repeat, caller's by the northwest side of the store. Copy, dispatch teams?"

"_Roger that._"

"Kyle," Barbie turned back to the call, struggling to keep her fear and nervousness out of her voice, "can you tell me what happened?"

"_I-I don't know what happened. One minute, we were just picking out groceries for dinner later, the next we're hiding behind the washing machines while someone shouts in some foreign language that I don't know the hell what is,_" Kyle breathed in raggedly.

"Can you describe them for me, sweetheart?"

"_I ca-can't see their faces, they've g-got masks on and...ohmygawd._" The girl sobbed before something covered any sounds she made.

"Kyle?" The lady's heartbeat increased rapidly at the lack of response. "Kyle, are you still there?" Unknowingly, her hand curled on the table as she swallowed. "Kyle? _Answer_ _me_."

A soft, relieved sigh came through, making Barbie do the same as she closed her eyes. "_A couple of them just walked by."_ The breathy voice spoke. "_They're carrying, assault rifles and semi-automatics. I'm scared, Barbie. They already killed someone,"_ breathy gasps as Barbie ran a hand through her hair internally cursing for letting the young girl experience this,_ "and I don't know what happened to the others. I'm all alone here."_

"I'm here, Kyle. I'm here. I'm not going to leave, okay? Please calm down."

"..._and __I don't even know if Selena's alive...please help me. I ca-can't,_" muffled sobs filtered through the call.

"It's going to be fine, Kyle. We have teams lined up outside."

"_Barbie._" The redhead sobbed the name, creating static through the line. "_Please. I need your help. They're everywhere in the store, at every exit. I can't get out._"

"We're doing everything we can can, Kyle. Stay strong, sweetheart."

"_Ohmygawd._" The girl gasped sharply. "_Barbie, they're looking for me. They saw me running and they're looking for me.."_

"Please relax, Kyle, help is on the way."

"..._and I think they know that I have a cellphone and that I'm calling you, ohmygawd, Barbie, help me. They're talking about a girl, they're asking the others if they saw me. Barbie, please. I'm begging you._"

"Keep your voice low, Kyle. Keep your head down and eyes and this line open. I won't let anything bad happen to you if you stay with me, alright? Do you understand, sweetheart?"

_"This is Marlene's phone,_ _Barbie_." A rock seemed to have lodged in the lady's throat. "_Marlene's being_," the girl inhaled sharply, still sobbing, "_she's being held hostage in the main office..._"

"Shit." Barbie dropped her head into her hands and rubbed her face.

"...s_he did the same thing Selena did, trying to distract them away from me so I could hide. The people with her have guns too. I saw them."_

"When I get my hands on those two..." She sighed in aggravation and grabbed the mic, trying to keep her eyes on the console before her instead of her boss in case she gave away anything. "We've got a hostage being held at gunpoint in the main office. Do you copy?"

"_We'll need a description, Miss._"

"She's a female brunette," a hand grabbed the mic from her and she inhaled sharply, "oh crap."

Skipper ignored the female and spoke into the mic. "This is NYPD's Skipper McGrath. We're taking this into our hands. Hold them off and keep them busy. Under any circumstances, do not give them head about this, keep a close eye on the situation and report back to my teammate on the dispatch line. Are my orders clear?"

"_Yes sir, Officer McGrath._"

Skipper leaned back and looked down at Barbie, mouth set in a thin line. "Marlene's the hostage, isn't she?"

She kept her eyes on the console. "Yes sir."

His expression didn't change as he turned to the other three, who were waiting tensely for an order. "Suit up, boys." They nodded and walked away as Skipper placed a hand on Barbie. "Keep us informed on the situation, McHale."

"Yes sir." Barbie repeated with a nod, now concentrated on her job as Skipper followed his team.

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**I know I said it's a one shot, and it is. It's just that I thought it would be easier for you guys to read this if I broke it down. :) Besides, it keeps up the suspense. ;)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Uh, belated? *hides from thrown objects* I'm making up to you, dagoneit! Have a heart, will ya? But you've been in suspense long enough, right?**

* * *

**1612 hours, outside Mack's Emporium**

"McHale." Skipper spoke to the little transceiver hooked to his shoulder, eyes on the building looming before him. Eyes had turned to him when he got out but he shot them a warning glare and they turned back to watching the building like hawks. The sound of the other car doors slamming shut indicated that the rest of his team were already ready. All they needed now was an order for him. "Give me an update."

"_Nothing has changed, Skipper. Except,_" one of the squad leaders came jogging up to him, glancing back at the building once in a while.

"Sir," the officer spoke once the salutations were done, "they've shot a civilian at exactly 1600. There have been no other shots from then."

Barbie sighed through the receiver. "_What he said._"

Skipper frowned and looked back at Private, whose hands were turning white from gripping the sniper rifle in his hand too hard. His face was also looking a little pale, fear visible, but the boy quickly put on a blank look the second he spotted Skipper.

"What happened?" Skipper questioned the man before him.

"Civilian tried to dash for the front doors, but," the officer trailed off as he glanced to the bullet ridden glass doors, the faint outline of a body on the ground beyond them.

"Unfortunate." Skipper noted grimly before turning to Private. "You are, under no circumstances to go near that building. Nor are you to participate in this mission. Rico." The boy let out a little gasp as Rico tried to take the rifle from him.

"No, Rico. You can't. Let go. Skippah!" Rico grunted in reply and was about to go to drastic measures on the reluctant teenager when Skipper waved him off. The scarred man stood off the side and checked the military velcro and leather pouches of his belt.

Skipper turned back to Private, pointing at him. "You will not be a participant in this mission. Do you hear me, Private?"

The baby blue eyes widened in surprise. "But, Skippah-"

"Do you _hear_ me, soldier?" The man repeated through gritted teeth, narrowing his eyes at the boy, who bowed his head and glared at the ground as his fingers fiddled with the strap of the rifle. "I know your best friend is in there, but you'll risk the operation if you act on your instincts, Private. And we can't take that chance."

"And you think that won't happen when Marlene's in the line of fire, _sir_?" Before Skipper could answer, the boy threw the weapon into the van, got in with it, and glared at the head of the seat before him.

"He's a teenager, Skipper. They act like that. Teenagers do that." The man murmured to himself before grabbing the bullhorn from Rico's outstretched hand and turning it on. He let the static catch the attention of the occupants in the store and of the surrounding area before speaking into it. "This is officer Skipper McGrath of the NYPD SWAT team. On the order of the New York Police Department, you are to release the hostages and come out with your hands up and your weapons down on the ground." He took his finger off the button and watched the doors for movement. "Hold fire." Skipper murmured to one of the squad leaders, who repeated his order to the other officers as a masked man, opened one of the doors but didn't step out.

A sense of disappointment and slightly of dread went through him when he realized that the man was shouting in a language he had yet to learn about. But he knew someone who was an expert in it.

"Kowalski?" Skipper turned to his second in command, who took a step forward. "If you will." Kowalski took the bullhorn from his commander and spoke through it, using the same language the man had used. After a while of watching, Skipper was handed back the device. "It went well, then?" He told the man without taking his eyes off the front doors, putting every bit of sarcasm into his voice.

Kowalski sighed and shook his head. "They refuse to surrender."

"They never do."

"Why even start with the 'surrender and no harm will come to you' speech then?

"Because it's for formalities. And I do not want a stack of papers on my table when this blows over." Skipper resisted the urge to roll his eyes and ran his free hand through his hair. "I need options."

"Are we still going through with the peaceful take over, Skipper?"

The captain slapped the back of his lieutenant's head without moving his eyes from the store.

"A simple _no_ would have sufficed..." The man muttered under his breath while rubbing the sore spot before pulling out his worn but trustworthy clipboard. "We'll need a distraction before we can get in. Even so, only one of us can do that. I would recommend-"

"No." Skipper interrupted sharply. "He's sitting this one out."

"Rico is our distraction, sir. And I'll be on surveillance. McHale is minutes away from hacking into the security system."

"I can go in."

"No can do, Skipper. You are in charge of the operation and will be leading us. Not only that, but you're also a liability, Skipper. With Marlene's presence added in, there is no telling what you would do if the situation arises." Kowalski crossed his arms, tucking the clipboard along with. "Our best chance is him."

"Do I need to repeat myself, Kowalski?" Skipper's voice turned a tad bit dangerous, lowering it so that only the two of them could hear. "I am not letting Private inside of that building until those men have surrendered or dead. I would prefer the second option."

"Of course you would..."

"Do not use that tone with me, soldier."

"In case you have forgotten, Selena is also in there. So I would know how you feel with this-"

"She might as well be dead with what Kyle told us." He received a glare from the intellectual, who closed his eyes and let out a calming breath before speaking.

"Very well. All you have to do is get in when I say so. I'll check in with Barbie for the live surveillance footage before we proceed."

***_I'm using mobile for this, so pardon me if I have committed mistakes. This is also not a one-shot but a short story._**


	3. Chapter 3

**1625 hours, main office of Mack's Emporium**

"Well," Skipper spoke under gritted teeth, ignoring the metal poking at the back of his head, "that went _perfectly _well." He glared at the ground before him as he struggled to get off the floor, but the boot on his back wasn't helping. "How's the date, _honey_?" He started off sarcastically, addressing the only unarmed female in the room. "I know it's nothing much, but I did everything I could. We're still on for Thursday, right?"

Marlene sighed softly with a hint of annoyance, though the concern and worry for him and the girls were clear on her face. She still hadn't seen where they had taken Selena, or if she was well and not...but she was still thinking about Kyle. Not seeing her meant that she was still out there, somewhere in the store. The down side to that was that she could also be-_Marlene! Stop thinking of that, she's fine. _The brunette shook her head to clear her thoughts and sighed again.

She shifted uncomfortably on her makeshift seat of a burlap sack filled with fresh coffee beans, and glanced over at Skipper, who was having a glare down with the others. _He really doesn't like losing, does he? _A piece of hair fell forward and she raised her hand, almost groaning out loud when her other hand came along. She itched to take off the ropes around her wrists, since they tied tightly around them, cutting the circulation off to the point where she could no longer feel them. She shifted again, ignoring the stray hair, but weary of the eyes watching her and just kept her eyes on Skipper, who was now making threats at their captors.

"You won't get away with this! My team's still out there! They will get you!" He laid his head down on one cheek and muttered obscenities under his breath.

"I thought," Marlene spoke lowly to the man, raising a brow, "you didn't want Private involved. You made that very clear when you locked him in the van."

Skipper rolled his eyes, which Marlene noted was quite ridiculous for a person of his stature but refrained from giggling in the serious situation. "Knowing Kowalski, he would take advantage of my temporary disability to the lead the operation. There's nothing I can do about that except to wait. It's on him now." Marlene opened her mouth to answer but the man who had been resting on the big leather chair behind the desk spoke first with heavily accented English.

"Your friend will not help you."

"Oh," Skipper turned his head to face him and glared at him, "so you can speak English? I'm been speaking that damn same thing for the past few minutes and now you speak? Damn you, man."

"You are ridiculous." Marlene blinked at the dry tone, but bit down on her lip when she realized that the gunned man was speaking her thoughts.

"And you're stupid." Was Skipper's retort before he let out a cry when one of the men dug his foot into his side. "What?" Skipper continued, not even wincing at the supposedly painful act. "Don't tell me you all speak English now. Are you trying to make a fool out of me?"

"Nobody's trying to make you a fool. You're doing that just fine on your own." A giggle escaped from Marlene, who bit down on the inside of her lips when Skipper sent her a glare. Now she felt a bit traitorous, but it wasn't her fault that she was finding the humor in the situation. "My men know what stupid means, American. It's a common word on television." The man got to his feet and walked around, stopping just inches from Skipper's face and making it hard for the officer to glower at him.

"Who the hell are you?"

"How rude of me." The grin he had was far from the appalled look one should have when saying the statement. "I am Risch."

"Ah." Skipper snorted and looked away. "The infamous anti-military leader. It's such an honor to meet you. I'll be sure to have a nice cold cell for you once this is over. If I don't kill you first."

Marlene looked from the stone faced Risch to Skipper, frowning at her boyfriend. "Skipper. What are you doing? Are you trying to get yourself killed?" Skipper was about to retort sharply when he looked over at Marlene's concerned face, then at the fear hidden in her eyes, mostly for his safety and that of her friends. He let out a soft sigh and stared at the ground, not really wanting to do anything, even though he knew he had to get them out of there.

_There's still the little problem of this idiot,_ Skipper's eyes glanced briefly at Risch with a glare, _keeping us here. _The sound of boots moving on the concrete floor had him watching Risch as the man headed over to Marlene.

"Your _girlfriend_ has a good head, doesn't she." Risch grinned and smirked at the debilitated man, who now had a suspicious look on his face. "I wonder what would happen if she lost it." The moment the meaning clicked in, Skipper was back to struggling to get free as Marlene gasped in fear.

"Don't you dare." He growled at the mercenary, struggling to get away from the foot that was digging deep into his back.

Marlene bit down on another gasp when she was forced to stand up, the grip tight on her arm before it moved to her chin and he inspected her face. "You are a beauty." He stopped at her eyes, which were glaring back at him, other emotions swimming through them. "But you belong to him, since neither of you are denying it. It's such a pity though." The lady watched as his other hand reached for the knife hanging from his belt. She refrained from showing any emotion but anger and continued glaring at the evil man even when the blade touched her neck, making her shiver involuntarily in fear.

"Stay away from her!" Skipper shouted and pushed off the floor, getting the man off his body and crashing to the floor. He was about to take a step forward when two more guards overtook him and held him back, a third pointing a rifle in his face.

Without moving his eyes from Marlene's, the man called in a voice as cold as the blade in his hand. "Call off the reinforcements, or," her eyes flew to the ceiling when the blade was pressed closer and she fought the urge to swallow, "she dies."

"I swear, if you hurt her," Marlene's eyes closed at the hostility in her boyfriend's voice, "I will-"

"Skipper." She licked her lips and urged away the tears forming under her eyelids, not wanting to show anyone how she was truly feeling. "It's fine. Duty first, remember? We talked about this." She was plentifully proud of the way her voice did not break, and so was Skipper, but he wasn't satisfied with it. Not until he was sure she would be safe.

"Marlene," she shook her head, still not opening her eyes.

"Just call your friends off." Risch impatiently said, rolling his eyes at the scene before him. "And we won't be having this problem."

"Shut it, will ya? I'm trying to have a conversation." Skipper sent him another 'I will kill you, cut you into pieces and feed you to the dogs' glare, before turning back to the lady. He tried again, but in a softer tone, like when he would talk to the children during Christmas or when he would convince Private from growing up cynically to his usual self. "Marlene. Look at me." She bit down on her lips and shook her head slightly, still feeling Risch's hand on her chin and the knife at her neck. "Please." Her eyelids fluttered and she licked her already dry lips before opening her eyes, only to let out a scream when she saw Skipper charging for the two of them. Even Risch seemed surprised, but recovered, only in time to be tackled.

Marlene backed away from the knife before it could slice her skin, but the bonds around her feet were making it hard to keep her balance. She landed hard on her bum, with her head following after and she groaned, turning on her side to ease the pain. A hand grabbed her gently by the arm and she turned to Skipper, who gave her a weary smile, cuts and bruises already sporting on the visible skin. She assessed each one, checking if they weren't too serious and wondering if he had any hidden under his clothes as he cut away at the bonds on her hands and feet and massaging them to bring back the circulation.

"We need to go. Before they discover Rico's housewarming gift." Without waiting for a reply, he starting pulling her out, but not before swiping a discarded rifle gun from the floor.

"...how?" She gasped out as they ran from the room. "I didn't even hear," the rest of her sentence trailed off when he looked back at her.

"Just trust me." Marlene was about to reply when a loud explosion rocked the building, sending the two of them tittering and reaching for something to support themselves while shouts and screams filled the air not far from them. Marlene's feet, which were still recovering from the lack of blood circulation, gave way, but she was caught by Skipper, and they continued running even with the aftershocks still subsiding.

That is, until a shout stopped them in their tracks. They looked back to see a couple of the gunmen running toward them, shouting in their native language. Skipper shook his head with a sigh and nudged Marlene.

"Go. I'll handle this."

"No, I'm not going to just-"

"Go, Marlene!" He glowered at her, gently shoving her back. "You need to get out of here! Find Kyle, and get out of here!"

"No! I won't-SKIPPER! LOOK OUT!" Marlene's eyes grew wide and she took a step to push him out of the way, but was roughly pulled back by a hand clamped over her mouth.

* * *

**1615 hours, ten minutes before Skipper's capture.**

"That's the plan?" The squad leader, Randy, skeptically looked from Skipper to Kowalski. The latter had just explained the plan of action involving Rico's 'distraction' and Skipper entering the building via the basement.

Skipper tucked a revolver into his belt. "Sounds good to me." Randy turned back to him, staring wide-eyed at him.

"Are you insane? You do know that they would be expecting you to come, right?"

The captain smirked and crossed his arms. "Precisely why we're doing it."

"_This is stupid..._" Randy muttered under his breath before sighing and turning back to Skipper. "You're the boss."

"Good." Skipper frowned at him, having heard what the man had said but didn't have the time to address it then. "Get to your position then and inform the others." Randy gave him a nod and jogged back to his position, relaying the message to the others. Skipper watched him for a while before turning to Kowalski. "What are the odds that I'll come out of this alive?"

"47.23%, Skipper."

"I like those odds."

"Should we send Rico out now?" The leader gave a small nod, keeping his eye on the building. "Rico." The scarred man pushed himself off the van with a grin and sneaked into a building next door, which had been evacuated an hour before once news hit, with a strange device in hand and a small bag strapped around his waist. Kowalski opened the back door of the van, but turned back to Skipper. "Barbie's hooked up with the security system. She's using facial recognition to check out the men."

"And what about you?"

"I'll be helping her with the surveillance system, along with informing you of any new updates or dangers."

"And?"

Kowalski sighed tiredly and looked back at the sulking boy sitting in the front. "And I'll also watch over Private and make sure he doesn't get involved."

"Good. I'll be back."

The lieutenant shook his head and hopped in. He started to pull the doors closed, leaving a space to still keep talking to the other until he was gone. "Skipper, on the behalf of the rest of the team and those people in there, do be careful." The all famous smug smirk appeared on the leader's face.

"When am I never, Kowalski?"

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**I may have been slightly sleep-deprived while editing this...:P**


End file.
